


this city never sleeps at night

by lacecat (orphan_account)



Series: Tallster Modern Spy AU [1]
Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Multi, Mutual Pining, Spies & Secret Agents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-08-17 00:04:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8122819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/lacecat
Summary: Ben is struck dumb at the sight of the man in front of him. “Caleb?”Caleb looks equally stunned. “Ben?”Sackett stares between the two of them. “What did I miss?”(in which they both don't realize that their neighbor is a spy, there's pining, and there's Nathan Hale cameos)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> quickly sinking into the turn fandom! I have some plans for this. hopefully will update/finish soon! this fandom deserves a lot more love :) 
> 
> (title: it's time by imagine dragons)

He’s cutting the lawn when the machine dies.

 

The lawn mower splutters, this time with a note of finality to it, and Ben sighs. 

 

He kicks the side lightly, as if the toe of his sneaker could bring the machine back to life, but all it does his make a faint clanging sound. 

 

It’s an old machine, something he bought from Abe back when he first moved into the house, and it had been living on borrowed time for quite a while now. But now Ben had about half a mowed lawn, and he didn’t feel like driving to the store to fix it.

 

He squats by the green plastic exterior, tries to fit his hand underneath the top. Something wet drips on his hand, and he jerks back, nearly falling back on his ass. 

 

“You alright there?” An amused voice comes from behind him, and Ben jerks his head up to find the owner of the voice. 

 

It’s a dark-haired man in a military uniform, with dark twinkling eyes and a rounded jawline. His eyes crinkle at the edges when Ben doesn’t immediately answer, and Ben flushes a dark red. 

 

“I, uh- yes. Yes. My lawn mower seems to have finally died- I’m Benjamin Tallmadge,” he blurts out, rising up to offer the man his hand. 

 

The man takes his hand and shakes it firmly, his eyes never leaving Ben’s. “Caleb Brewster. Nice to meet you, Benjamin Tallmadge.” His voice has a somewhat lilting quality, even though his voice is deep, that is immediately appealing.

 

“Are you on leave?” Ben asks, his gaze dropping on the bars on his jacket, before he can help himself. “Sorry. I’m usually not as- questioning. I’ve been out here for a while,” he admits, and is fascinated by the way Caleb tilts his head back as he laughs. _Shit_ , he thinks to himself. 

 

“That’s all right, I was Lieutenant Brewster a few hours ago, before I officially resigned my commission. Now I’m Caleb, your new neighbor.” He motions toward the house behind him. “Just signed the paperwork on this beauty a few days ago. She’ll need some fixes, so I’m gonna apologize for any weird construction sounds right now.” 

 

Before Ben can respond, the lawn mower begins to hiss slightly, and he drops down to his knees in front of it. “Oh no, that doesn’t sound good,” he mutters, trying again to pry the lid off. “Sorry, it’s been acting up-” 

 

“Let me take a look at it,” Caleb says from above him, and before Ben can say anything, the man’s knelt across from him, no doubt getting grass stains on his uniform, and lifts the lid off. “Oh, yeah, that’ll be the starter troubling you. I’ll get her restarted, but you might want to buy a new part soon.” 

 

Ben watches as he pulls at the wires in the machine, adjusting a valve and then steps back. “Try her now.”

 

Ben pulls the cord, and the engine whirrs to life. Caleb grins at him, and Ben’s heart flutters traitorously in his chest. “There ya go.”

 

“You’re a miracle worker,” Ben says loudly over the engine. Caleb laughs, gives him a wave, and walks back to the house. 

 

Ben lets himself watch the man walk away for a few moments before turning to finish the rest of his lawn.

 

 

•••

 

 

“And he’s gorgeous,” Ben tells the screen with a glum expression. “It’s like some terrible rom-com, only I’m the creepy neighbor who’s going to watch through the window as he brings back an equally hot girlfriend. Probably get invited to their wedding out of pity.” 

 

Nathan Hale snickers, his face becoming pixellated for a second on the screen. “Then I’ll be your hot date, and we’ll get drunk on the open bar. I’ve been told I get handsy though, so watch out for your delicate sensibilities.”

 

Ben drops his head onto the table. “I hate you.”

 

He laughs, the sound slightly distorted but still comforting. “I know.” 

 

Nathan and Ben had been college roommates at Yale, then lived together in DC after graduation. Ben moved to the Philadelphia suburbs eighteen months ago, and missed Nathan nearly every day. He didn’t regret leaving the political life that Nathan still lived and breathed, but it was tough to leave his best friend behind. 

 

Nathan continued, “Besides, you said he was doing construction at the house. So why don’t you put on your tightest blue t-shirt, grab a wrench and ask if he needs a hand? Then, of course, _give him a hand_ , if you know what I mean.” 

 

“You’re disgusting,” Ben tells him.

 

“Ha. But seriously, you should ask him out or something, get to know him. You deserve that.”

 

Ben looks beyond the screen. “I can’t, work’s got me too busy for anything right now.”

 

Nathan sighs, but doesn’t press on.

 

 

•••

 

 

The next morning, Ben walks out to his car only to see Caleb dressed in a pair of dark shorts, a white tank top, and a pair of orange crocs, carrying a plank of wood under his arm. 

 

He would be absolutely repulsed by the choice of shoes if not for the fact that the tank top stretched invitingly over a broad chest, his arms rippled with muscle and glistening. 

 

Ben trips over his own feet a bit, and Caleb turns to greet him. “Benjamin Tallmadge! Sorry for the early start, I’m making the door.” He sets down the piece of wood. “You got a minute?” 

 

“Please, call me Ben,” he says, making his way across the grass. Caleb’s face splits into an even bigger smile, and Ben uses all of his willpower not to stare at the curve where his bicep meets his shoulder. 

 

“Ben, then, which do you think for the stain?” he says, and Ben realizes that he’s holding out two pieces of wood samples. 

 

One’s colored a dark, reddish mahogany, the other a light, warm beech color. Ben glances over them before pointing towards the beech. “If you’re sticking with the blue paint, that one. The other one’s going to be too dark and it’ll look out of place.” 

 

Caleb glances at the wood pieces, then back at the house. “No, you’re right, I didn’t even think about the paint. Aren’t I lucky that I asked you?” he says, grinning at Ben.

 

Ben can’t help but to smile back, then remembered Nathan’s words from last night with a slight blush. “It’s nothing. And if you, ah, need anything else, I should be back by five tonight.” 

 

“Right, it’s Monday,” Caleb exclaims. “Where do you work?”  


“I’m a substitute teacher,” Ben says, and the lie slips easily off his tongue. “At one of the prep schools in Philly.” 

 

“Teacher, that’d explain the sweater,” Caleb says with a teasing tone. “I’ll leave you to it, then. Thanks again.”

 

“It’s nothing,” Ben says, and walks away before his blush can get worse. 

 

 

 

•••

 

 

Officially, Ben is not allowed to tell anyone about his job, but he told Nathan one night, shortly after he moved to Philadelphia and Nathan visited him in the new house. 

 

His new job, he told Nathan, was less educating masses of children, and more about supervising a top secret government operations. He couldn’t- and didn’t- go into specifics (he wasn’t sure if Nathan would actually believe him if _spy_ came out of his mouth), but he trusted Nathan with his life, and so he revealed that Ben Tallmadge wasn’t exactly a teacher anymore.

 

(He had been a teacher, briefly, before Sackett had swooped in, seeing his Yale education and foreign language ability, and promptly swept him up into government work.)

 

Nathan, true to his word, kept his mouth shut, and Ben was soon able to get used to the constant stress and the demands of his bosses. At first, he wondered if he had made a mistake in accepting Sackett’s job offer, but now he was more confident,more sure in his abilities, and able to handle whatever the job threw at him. 

 

(Sometimes literally. He’s had to learn a somewhat distressing amount of self-defense since he’s arrived). 

 

Ben shows his badge to the agent at the front desk, and boards the elevator to Sackett’s office. When the doors open, Anna is there, with an unimpressed expression on her face. 

 

“Anna,” Ben says in greeting, before she slants a glare at him. She’s one of the top agents in the section: highly competent, stunning, and one of the smartest people Ben has ever met. If she wasn’t so terrifying, Ben would be slightly in love with her. 

 

Her dark eyes are piercing. “Arnold’s in there with him. He wants in on intelligence, Sackett doesn’t want him to butt in on any of our operations.” 

 

Ben sighs. “Sackett can’t stop him if he’s so keen on getting intel. What’s he looking for?” 

 

“That Amsterdam operation from a few weeks back. I’ve heard he wants to persuade Washington into authorizing another op, that he’ll lead this time.” 

 

“I’m sure he does. Sackett’s wily, though, I’m sure he can handle Arnold himself.” 

 

Anna opens her mouth, but then shuts it suddenly as the door to Sackett’s office opens. Benedict Arnold storms out then, his expression furious, and only slightly smooths out when he sees Ben and Anna. “Agents,” he bites out, pushing by Ben into the elevator.

 

Ben walks forward into Sackett’s office, just as the man falls back into his chair. “Sir?”

 

“That Benedict Arnold-” Sackett begins to grumble, but then pushes back from the desk with a start. “Tallmadge. There’s been some updates in Amsterdam.”

 

Ben glances back behind him, but Anna has somehow disappeared. “Yes sir, so I’ve been told. Arnold wants in on the operation?”

 

“He does. But he’s not the right man to lead it. I want you there by the end of the month, positioned in the city.”

 

“Am I to take over the current operation?” Ben asks, surprised.

 

Sackett leans back in his chair once more. “No, this is a new task, multi-branch. Someone’s been channeling drugs through the port, and it’s the type of money that no one wants word getting out that we know about it. You’re to shut down the operation without anyone every knowing you’ve been there, and you’ll be working with the Navy liaison.”

 

“What liason, sir?”  


“Someone, I don’t know, they’ve been slow to pick. I’ll have your official orders by the end of the week, as well as your partner in this. For now, take some time to get your affairs in order, you might be gone for some time. Report back on Friday and learn some damn Dutch.”

 

 

•••

 

 

“Howdy, neighbor!” Caleb calls from across the lawn as Ben gets out of his car. 

 

For such a tiring day at work, Ben waves at him. “How’s the door coming along?” 

 

“It’s a beaut, I’ll let you know. Finished sanding the panes, and it took two coats of that stain you picked real nice. Just about to put it up,” the dark haired man said.

 

“Let me help,” Ben says, putting down his bag on the inside of his front door before walking across to join Caleb on the man’s driveway.

 

Together, they hoist the piece of wood to the door, and Ben holds the wood in place as Caleb attaches the hinges, using a drill and then tightening them by hand into place. “Where’d you learn all of this stuff?” he asks, watching Caleb carefully tightens the screws. 

 

“My uncle, he owned a farm and did most of the carpentry stuff there. Raised me, and taught me a lot. Came in handy on ships too. How’d a teacher know about wood stains?”  


Ben smiles. “My mom was into interior design when I was growing up. Guess something rubbed off onto me.” 

 

Caleb laughs at that. “Is she around here?” 

 

“She died during my first year at college.” 

 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Caleb tells him, meeting his eyes. “My uncle died two years ago while I was deployed. It’s tough when you’re away.”

 

Ben shuffled his foot back a bit. “Yeah,” he says. “It really does. I’m sorry about your uncle.”

 

Caleb nods, rises to his feet. “Well, then, how about you come in and I order a pizza?”

 

“I’d love to,” Ben says, and if his heart glows a bit, well, then, he can justify it as just being a good neighbor and new friend.

 

 

•••

 

 

That night, over beer and pizza, Ben discovers that Caleb had been born in the same small New Jersey town as him. They realize they must have slipped through the public school at different times, as Caleb is six years older than Ben, but both have fond memories of Setauket. 

 

“I’ve heard that that old chemistry teacher is still terrifying students,” Caleb says with a smirk like he’s confiding in Ben, and he snorts. 

 

“I’m not surprised. Mrs. Eldridge haunts my dreams.” 

 

Caleb is warm, energetic, and is in no hurry to kick Ben off of the couch (the rest of the furniture is covered in drop cloths, evidently the room is about to be painted), so he plies Ben with food and drink until they’re both comfortably lounging, sharing stories.

 

Caleb tells Ben about the time he tried to build a boat in a shed, about when he joined the Navy fresh out of high school, and when he broke his forearm in two places trying to impress a grade school crush. Ben tells Caleb about his first year at Yale, when he thought that he was going to be a politician, about when one of students drew him a picture that he still keeps in a drawer somewhere, and how he and his mom used to go blueberry picking and eat more blueberries then they could carry back home. 

 

They’re drinking coffee, and Caleb tells him, “I think we’re gonna be great friends, Tallboy,” and Ben laughs, brave enough to give him a light shove on the shoulder, and carefully presses away any non-platonic feeling deep into his chest.

 

 

 

•••

 

 

The rest of the week, Ben stays home and helps Caleb with his house. Sackett’s made it clear that he’s not to come back into the office until Friday, when he gets the official paperwork, and it’s easy to Caleb that the school doesn’t need a substitute teacher this week. 

 

On Tuesday, they paint Caleb’s living room a bright shade of yellow, and Ben flicks yellow paint at him just to see Caleb laugh and hit him with a paintbrush. The painting takes much longer than it should, so on Thursday, Ben takes Caleb into Philadelphia.

 

They go to the terminal market, and hike up museum steps while Caleb hums the Rocky theme. On a Liberty Bell tour, Ben listens to the tour guide intently, while Caleb quietly makes fun of him, Ben protesting, “I’m a history teacher!”.

 

It’s ridiculously domestic, and Ben has to remind himself that it won’t last, that they’re just friends, that soon he will be leaving for Amsterdam, which could very well end up with Ben dead in a river somewhere. The fast progression of their friendship should be strange, but he’s comfortable with Caleb in a way that he wasn’t even with Nathan. 

 

That night, Ben helps Caleb carry the large box of antiques (he had seen one of the stores on Main Street and had suddenly gotten inspired by the large collection of antique lamps) into his house. 

 

The dark orange haze of the sunset illuminated Caleb’s hair so that there was a faint halo of reddish light, catching the stubble on his jaw as well. 

 

Ben swallows, setting down the box. “Well, I’ll leave you to it then.”

 

Caleb sets down his hand, brushes his hands off of dust. “Right. I had a good time today,” he says, warm, and Ben has to fight to maintain regular eye contact. 

 

“Me too,” he says, and for a moment, Caleb’s eyes seem to wander down to his mouth, for a thrilling second, and Ben yearns _,_ but then he turns and jokes about the junk he’s accumulating. 

 

Ben takes a moment, but then laughs, and says goodnight. 

 

Then Friday comes, and it all changes. 

 

Ben enters the elevator to Sackett’s office, and Anna manages to slide in between the metal doors before they close, her sleeveless black dress giving her both an effortless polish and a dangerous look. “The Naval liaison is up there already. Apparently he’s retired, they’re bringing him back for this mission.”  


Ben frowns. “Why? Sackett usually assigns you or another agent to work with me.”

 

The woman shrugs. “Maybe it’s some sort of audit. Who knows. I’m interested in what you’ll think of him.” 

 

Ben gives her a strange look, but the elevator doors open, and he goes into Sackett’s office.

 

There’s a man facing away from him, and Sackett looks up at Ben. The man begins to turn around. “Ah, there you are. This is Benjamin Tallmadge, and this is the Navy liaison for your mission- what?”

 

Ben is struck dumb at the sight of the man in front of him. “Caleb?” 

 

Caleb looks equally stunned. “Ben?” 

 

Sackett stares between the two of them. “What did I miss?” 


	2. Chapter 2

•••

 

 

“So let me get this straight,” Anna says, “The Navy liaison just happened to be your new neighbor?”   
  
“Ex-Navy now,” Ben says miserably. “He retired last week so that the jurisdiction is more clear, on the operation we’re supposed to run.” His head swam a bit, both from the events of the morning as well as the shot of whiskey Anna had thoughtfully poured for him back in her office. He honestly couldn’t give a damn about day drinking at the moment. 

 

Back in Sackett’s office, Ben had recovered quickly first from the shock of seeing Caleb across from him, and had alleviated his boss’s understandable concern that there was going to be a conflict of interest, before getting the official papers for the operation.

 

“Neighbors?” Sackett even had given a small chuckle at Ben’s hurried explanation, “A small world, it is. I was worried it was something messy, like a failed hit or exes.” 

 

Ben _definitely_ did not look at Caleb to see his reaction to that suggestion. 

 

As he left, he didn’t notice how Caleb made an aborted gesture to reach out to him, before snatching his hand back to remain firmly planted at his side. 

 

“Shit,” Anna allows, “So he was why you were so eager to stay at home this past week? If you guys had a fling, that might come up in the field.”  


“I just helped him around his house. In a friendly way.” Even as he says it, it sounds ridiculous. “We’re just neighbors.” Ben downs the rest of his glass. 

 

The woman raises a perfectly plucked dark eyebrow. “The only time I see my neighbor is when her mail’s been delivered to me by accident.” 

 

“Well it doesn’t matter now, does it, because he’s on the mission with me.” An ugly feeling burns in his stomach then. “You don’t think he knew, and this was some way for him to scope me out before Sackett brought us together?”   
  
“He seemed pretty stunned, but you never know in our profession,” she says wryly. “Maybe you can ask him when you get home.” 

 

Ben groans.

 

 

•••

 

 

Caleb isn’t in his driveway when Ben gets out of the taxi. He makes his way inside, closing the door behind him, and viciously throws his bag onto the back of the sofa. 

 

He makes his way into the kitchen where he contemplates the contents of his fridge, then begins to throw out most of the food in it. It would go bad while he was away, and as Ben methodically wipes down the surfaces, there’s a knock at the door.

 

He considers not getting it, knowing who it’s likely to be, but then he throws away the last carton of milk and goes to open the front door. 

 

Caleb is standing on the stoop, his hands stuffed in the pockets of a worn sweatshirt. He’s wearing those infuriatingly bright crocs again, but at least he’s not in his uniform like in Sackett’s office. “Ben? We need to talk.”His face is serious, an expression that is somehow strange on his face. 

 

Ben stares at him through the screen, but opens the door after a moment. 

 

He walks into the living room, letting Caleb trail behind him. “If it’s about the operation, Mr. Sackett will have emailed you any relevant paperwork by now.” His voice is intentionally smooth, and when the other man doesn’t answer right away, he turns around to see Caleb staring at a photo on the wall.

 

It’s one of the few photos in Ben’s apartment, and it’s of his parents on their wedding day. His mom looks painfully young but radiant, and his dad is turned to look at her with a big smile on his face. 

 

Caleb looks at him then. “You have her eyes,” he says, too softly, and that ugly feeling is back in Ben’s stomach. 

 

“So what was it,” he starts, bitter already, and Caleb’s already narrowed his eyes, “You thought, hey, why not figure out what I’m all about? You must have been thrilled to find out the house next door to me was unoccupied, so you could just catch me unaware.”  


“The house- for Christ’s sake, Ben, I didn’t know who you were! You told me you were a fucking teacher. And what, like you didn’t know who I was?”

 

“I didn’t! Sackett didn’t even tell me of the mission until after I met you.” 

 

Caleb’s getting angry, Ben can tell, as he snaps back, “Right. I’m just supposed to believe that you just happen to be my neighbor? What did you do, kill the guy who lived here before me?” 

 

Before he can blink, Ben has Caleb pressed against the wall, his arm putting steady pressure on the shorter man’s windpipe. “Fuck you,” Ben spits. “I didn’t know, and you have no right-” 

 

Caleb gives a strangled laugh at that. “No right? No, let me tell you-” and his grip on Ben’s arm is strong, as he’s able to pull Ben’s arm away, but makes no move to push him back, “Let me tell you, I just know you must have a big problem when things don’t go exactly your way.”   


“In my line of work, when things don’t go my way, someone ends up dead,” Ben says, and it’s meant to be a retort, but just sounds hollow and hurt. 

 

Caleb’s dark eyes widen, and after a moment, Ben steps back, making sure to keep his expression flat.“You should know that.” 

 

There’s a beat of silence, and Caleb lets his head fall back against the wall, his anger forgotten. “Fuck. I can sell the house. I doubt I can find another man to replace me for the mission, but I’ll be gone by the time we get back.” 

 

“No you won’t,” Ben says, keeping his eyes trained on him, but letting his stance soften. “Not because of me. We won’t need to interact outside of work.”

 

“Ben, I appreciate it, but-”

 

“I mean it, Caleb,” and he tries to keep his tone firm, but something in his eyes must give it away, because Caleb is still looking at him like he’s some sort of puzzle, “Besides, you’ve already put a new door in.” 

 

Caleb barks out a laugh at that, pushes himself off the wall easily. He holds out a hand to Ben, who accepts the handshake. “Caleb Brewster. Ex-Navy, spy.” 

 

His hand is warm, and Ben shakes it firmly. “Benjamin Tallmadge. Ex-teacher, spy.” 

 

“I need a drink,” Caleb says, and Ben couldn’t agree more. 

 

 

•••

 

 

One drink turns into many more, and the evening turns into a twisted show and tell. From on the ground in front of the couch, Ben rolls up the edge of his shirt sleeve, shows Caleb the rippled scar in his shoulder. “Sniper in Panama. Thought I would die in a hospital there before they managed to extract me.”

 

The bearded man huffed, rolling up his own shirt to show several long scars down his side. “Well look at this set. Girl in the Philippines, tried to stab me to death during an undercover mission.” 

 

“Looks like she got close,” Ben observes, and Caleb laughs at that. 

 

“She sure did. Had to steal a pillowcase from the brothel to stop the bleeding. I’m not sure I can even still go back to Manila, since my cover was blown.” 

 

“Was this when you first enlisted?” Ben asks. “The undercover missions, I mean.” The unspoken question was how much of what he knew about Caleb was the truth, and the man shakes his head in response. 

 

“I was in the Navy right out of high school, but I got recruited for the missions about three years in.”

 

Ben twists the bottle cap on the top of his beer, thoughtful. “I was a teacher for a few years before Sackett recruited me. Sometimes I wonder what if I refused, if I stayed in DC.”

 

“No doubt working yourself into an early grave, educating the starry-eyed youths,” Caleb says with an innocent expression, and Ben barely thinks twice before hitting him in the arm. 

 

“Ow. Now the real question, is how does a spy not know how to fix a lawn mower?” 

 

“Same way a sailor finds himself working in a top-secret government capacity, I suppose.” 

 

“Benjamin Tallmadge, you certainly have a mouth on you,” Caleb tells him, clinking his beer bottle to Ben’s. 

 

“So I’ve been told,” Ben deadpans, and if his chest warms when Caleb laughs again, well, it’s just their newfound camaraderie.   


Caleb leaves soon after to sleep in his own house, as they both have an early flight to Amsterdam the next morning (separate flights, of course, to maintain their cover). That night, Ben works a hand over himself in bed, biting his lip hard when he comes, and he tries not to picture crinkling brown eyes.

 

 

•••

 

 

The next morning, as he loops his tie, suitcase packed and ready to go, Ben can hear Anna’s car pull into the driveway. 

 

Finishing tying his tie, he shrugs on his jacket before leaving the house with his bag. Caleb has already made his way over to Anna’s car, and is leaning in to talk with her in the front seat. 

 

He’s wearing jeans and a loose white shirt, a duffle bag slung over his shoulder. At Ben’s footsteps, Caleb straightens up. “Tall boy!” he greets, and Ben can practically feel Anna’s look through the windshield. 

 

“Caleb,” he greets. “Anna’s here to drive me to the airport.” 

 

“Right. Have a safe flight, then,” Caleb says, stepping back from the car, his eyes steady on Ben’s. 

 

Ben doesn’t know what else to do than nod and smile, opening the car door before he can do anything ridiculous.

 

Anna looks at him for a moment before muttering something that sounds suspiciously like “ _Boys”_ before putting the car in reverse.

 

 

•••

 

 

Sackett’s contacts in Amsterdam are a stern-looking man with pushed-back dark hair, and a woman with a pale scarf wrapped around her dark hair. 

 

Ben meets them on a bench overlooking the canal, his jacket unbuttoned. The city was warm and overcast, with tourists and bikers mingling and driving by them. He takes a sip of the coffee that he bought from one of the street vendors. 

 

The woman, who introduces herself as Abigail, slides over an envelope. “This is what we already have on the shipments coming in,” she says in a steady voice. “We require both you and your partner to intercept one of the major ones, and to eliminate the ringleaders of the local operation.” 

 

Selah, the man, who has yet to blink while Ben looks at him, says nothing as Abigail continues to speak. “Your partner’s flight is due in any moment now. You’ll meet at the hotel, and work out of your room. We’ll meet at this bench every two days.”  


“What if I need to get in contact?” he asks. Selah then moves, taking a phone out of his pocket.

 

“Dial this number, wait for three rings,” he says, as Ben accepts the phone.

 

“We’ll find you,” Abigail says, and she and Selah are gone.

 

Ben walks along the canal after their meeting. Amsterdam is no doubt a gorgeous city, and he can’t help but to marvel at some of the quaint architecture of the canal houses that line the main roads. Still, he feels as though something is missing. 

 

Back in the hotel room, Ben just begins to loosen his tie when Caleb opens the door. “God, I forgot how much I hate planes,” is what he says, before slumping on one of the twin-sized beds. 

 

Ben raises an eyebrow, taking off his tie completely. “I take it your flight went well.”

 

“Absolute shit,” Caleb informs him from where his face is crushed into a pillow, and Ben realizes that he was looking forward to their easy conversation the entire time he’s been in Amsterdam. “There was an old man behind me who practically screamed at the poor flight attendant. Thought I was going to have to slap him with a tray.” 

 

“I would’ve paid to see that,” Ben says, and Caleb gives another groan before rolling over and sitting upright. 

 

“Did you make contact with our Dutch friends?” 

 

Ben nodded towards the envelope on the small table in the room, and Caleb crosses it to stand right next to him, pulling papers out and studying them. “Shipment information, photos of suspected leaders, by the names of Bradford and Hickey. I thought tonight we’d do a stake-out at the port, get a sense of their numbers and see if we can get any more intel. They’re supposed to be meeting next week during a big drop off.” 

 

“Right,” Caleb says, reading the papers, “I’ve brought some gifts just for this.” 

 

“Gifts” as it turns out, is a heavy suitcase full of guns that Caleb had picked up on his way to the hotel from the airport. 

 

Ben picks up one of the handguns, turning it over in his hands. Caleb eyes him from across the bag. “Are you a Glock enthusiast, Tall boy?”

 

“I used to carry a 21 just like it. It’s got great accuracy,” Ben says, loading the gun from the small arsenal pile of bullets. “Lost one in the Hudson once though.” 

 

“Then you’ll love this one,” Caleb says. “Next generation, lighter recoil.” He steps around the table and behind Ben, reaching around to pick it up. 

 

He isn’t exactly pressed up against him, but Ben can feel the warmth emitting from Caleb’s body, and he holds his breath for a moment before forcing his breathing to be normal. 

 

Caleb slides his hand down the barrel, holding it for Ben to take. “You can take it,” he says, breath tickling the back of Ben’s neck as he accepts the gun.

 

Ben wants to turn around, look him right in the eye, possibly drop to his knees right then and there, but Caleb steps back before he can make a move. “I’m going to freshen up before we head out, try not to lose the guns in any body of water,” he jokes, and Ben forces himself to relax, smile in return. 

 

He’s in deep.

 

 

•••


	3. Chapter 3

•••

 

 

The stake-out starts slow, with both of them sipping coffee in the borrowed car, the sun slipping behind the buildings until the only light is from the street-lamps. 

 

They’re parked behind an old warehouse where supposedly one of the drug dealers is to make a drop, and it’s only an intelligence gathering outing, but Ben keeps a careful eye on all the cars that drive by. He’s changed into a t-shirt and jeans for the purpose of blending in in case any passerby might see them, and Caleb followed suit, in a tight black shirt and olive cargo pants. 

 

Beside him in the passenger’s seat, Caleb shuffles slightly. “Haven’t been on a stake-out in years,” he says, his eyes shifting to the rear view mirror. “My specialty was always more of the coming in shooting variety.” 

  
Ben snorts. “Sorry to disappoint. Sackett stressed that it’s supposed to be under the radar. There’s probably a half a dozen different ops running in this neighborhood who wouldn’t take it kindly if we ruined their work.” 

 

“I’m not complaining, it’s not so bad working with you after all,” Caleb says, and Ben turns to look at him. “I mean, you’re weirdly meticulous, and I’ve yet to see you in combat, but it’s not bad, Tallmadge.” 

 

Ben is caught off guard. “It’s not bad with you, either. I think this honesty thing really helps,” he says dryly, and Caleb laughs.

 

“Yeah, that’ll do it. We’re partners now, aren’t we?”

 

Before Ben can answer, movement catches his eye. A door opens down the alley, and two men walk out, complete with several large men, evidently bodyguards, trailing behind them. 

 

“Shit,” Caleb says, as Ben recognizes the men. “There’s no way-” 

 

“It’s them,” Ben hisses, grabbing his phone to dial Abigail and Selah, as the men begin walking away from where they can follow them in the car. “Bradford and Hickey, they’re meeting now. We can’t let them leave. “ He lets the phone ring three times exactly before hanging up. 

 

Caleb looked at Ben, then at the several armed bodyguards, and then back at Ben. “You’re not suggesting- we have nowhere near the firepower. Maybe if our friends come by _very_ soon, but we can’t exactly keep Bradford and Hickey here-”

 

Already a plan is running through Ben’s head, and he makes the decision. “You stay in the car, if this goes south, backup should be coming.” 

 

“If this goes south- what are you doing?” 

 

He then takes off his holster, puts it and the gun on the console between the two front seats, and rolls up the edges of his t-shirt to reveal a sliver of his stomach, and the toned part of his upper arms. “You have any cigarettes?”

 

“Christ,” Caleb says. “You think that’ll work?” 

 

“I sure hope so,” Ben says. “Cigarettes?” 

 

The man opens the glovebox, where there is a carton of cigarettes, and hands them to Ben, his mouth a tight line, but doesn’t stop him. Ben shoots a quick prayer up to whatever God there may or may not be, and exits the car before Caleb can protest any more. 

 

Hearing Ben behind them, the bodyguards react first, drifting hands on their guns, but Ben shoots them a slow smile, coming up to them with a swing to his hips. The mandatory training comes back to him quickly. The bodyguards relax slightly, and both Hickey and Bradford stop. 

 

“Gentlemen,” Ben greets them in Dutch, crossing his arms over his chest in what he hopes is an appropriately telling manner. “It’s been a quiet night for me so far, I’ve been looking for some fun.” He winks at Hickey who’s closer to him. 

 

The man rolls his eyes, but the other one, Bradford, smirks at him. “I think I’ve got some time for you,” he says, and Ben tries not to shudder. “What’s a pretty face like yours doing out here?”  


“I was just on my way to a club. Want a smoke?” Ben asks coyly, putting one between his mouth in what he hopes is an obscene fashion. 

 

Hickey scoffs when Bradford pulls out a lighter from his pocket, as Ben leans against the alley wall. “Seriously? Get your dick sucked on your own time,” he says in English. “We have to go.”  


Bradford turns, snaps in English as well, “All right, for fuck’s sake, give me a minute,” and turns to Ben again. “Sorry baby, business calls.”

 

“Going already?” Ben asks, letting his foot wander over so it’s hooked slightly around Bradford’s calf, pulling him in. “I thought we could have some fun.” 

 

Bradford opens his mouth to reply, but then a gunshot rings out. 

 

Two of the bodyguards collapse, blood pouring from one’s neck, and Abigail comes out from the building next to them, Selah tailing her, both holding guns. The sound of a car door opening echoes down the alley. 

 

The two other bodyguards fire at them, but are taken out from gunfire from Caleb’s direction.

 

Ben moves to duck, but Bradford catches his arm and twists up, causing Ben to stumble and fall against him. He makes to kick in his instep, but then the man draws a gun to his head, turning the safety off with a click. 

 

_Shit_. 

 

Hickey’s already on the ground, blood oozing out of a gunshot to the upper leg, and both Selah and Abigail have their guns trained on Bradford. 

 

From down the alley, Caleb runs closer before he sees Bradford’s gun pressed tightly against Ben’s temple. “Let him go, _now_ ,” Caleb orders, his hands tight and steady around the gun. 

 

Bradford sneers from behind Ben. “Don’t take another step unless you want his brains everywhere.” He begins to move back. “You’re going to put down your guns, and you’re going to let me go. Maybe I’ll let you find his pretty face in one piece.” 

 

“Caleb, don’t-” Ben starts, but then Bradford presses the gun more into the side of his head so he stops speaking out of wave of pain that rushes through him. 

 

Caleb snarls. “You bastard-” but he puts his gun down, puts his hands up.

 

Abigail slowly lowers her gun as well, but then Selah squints his eyes, and fires.

 

Bradford staggers behind him. But then there’s shooting pain running down Ben’s side, and he falls on top of the other man. Faintly, he can hear Caleb shout, and there are footsteps by his head. 

 

“Fuck, fuck-” Caleb says from somewhere above him, his eyes wide and panicked. He presses down on Ben’s side, and he would give a cry from the pain, if only there weren’t dark spots eating away the corners of his vision. “Don’t die on me, you stupid bastard-” 

 

 

•••

 

Ben wakes up in a hospital room with a dull headache, his side aching and itchy. 

 

Blinking his eyes until he can see more clearly, Ben can make out a slumped over figure in the chair beside the hospital bed. He tries to open his mouth (luckily he’s not an a ventilator like last time) and say something, but between his blurry vision and the pain in his side, only a small groan comes out. 

 

The figure moves, comes closer, and Ben finally recognizes who it is. “Benjamin! You idiot,” Caleb says, his face coming into focus, and despite his words, he looks relieved beyond all measures. “Been out for some time, you have.” 

 

Ben makes another small noise, and Caleb disappears for a moment, then comes back to bring a plastic cup to his lips. 

 

Ben manages to drink some of the water so his mouth isn’t as dry, then croaks out, “Did- did Selah shoot me?” 

 

Caleb makes a low sound of anger. “Not exactly. Selah shot Bradford, but he managed to clip you as he went down. But don’t mind that for now. How are you feeling?” 

 

Ben gives a faint laugh. “Been better, side hurts. Where are we?” 

 

“They airlifted you back, you’re in Penn now. Let me call a nurse-” 

 

He moves towards the top of the bed, but Ben manages to snag onto his sleeve with his hand as it passes over him. “Thank you,” he murmurs. 

 

“Why you thanking me, Tall boy?”  


 

“For trusting me... S’was a dumb plan, but thanks.”

 

Caleb’s eyes are impossibly fond, and he smooths a hand over Ben’s forehead before the man can process it. “You’re my partner. You’re an idiot, though.” 

 

He coughs then, and Caleb presses the button for a nurse, and one comes in and injects something into the IV line after doing a brief checkup. 

 

Ben blinks once, twice, as Caleb drags a chair up to the side of his bed, and he’s asleep in moments.

 

 

•••

 

 

The next time he wakes up, Caleb is still there, but he’s standing in front of Ben’s bed. Ben’s vision is better this time, the pain in his side replaced with the sweet buzz of strong painkillers, but there’s something’s wrong with the line of his shoulders. He tries to sit up. “Caleb?” 

 

The man turns his head slightly in surprise. “Ben?”  


 

“Ben!” Another voice chimes in, and Ben squints to see past Caleb. 

 

“Nathan?” 

 

In front of him, Caleb relaxes. “You know him?” 

 

“Yeah- yeah, Nathan’s a friend.” 

 

“ _Friend_ ,” Nathan scoffs, as he comes around Caleb, “Ben, how come I always find out you’re in the hospital?” 

 

Ben runs a hand down his face, where there’s more stubble than he’s had in months. “Guess our timing’s terrible. How’d you know I was here?” 

 

Across the room, Caleb’s face does something strange that Ben can’t quite process out in his drug-induced haze. 

 

“I’m still your emergency contact. Damn, Tallmadge, you look like shit.” Nathan turns to look at Caleb with a raised eyebrow. “Who’s this?” 

 

Ben pauses for the briefest moment. “Nathan, this is Caleb Brewster. Caleb, uh, this is Nathan Hale. We went to Yale together.” 

 

There’s a beat of silence, then Nathan throws his head back as he laughs hard. Caleb looks like he doesn’t quite know to react, but then Nathan says, “Ah, _Caleb._ Your new best friend-slash-neighbor Caleb?”

 

Now Caleb’s eyebrows are raised, and he shoots a glance at Ben, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “New best friend?” 

 

Ben desperately wishes for more drugs in that moment. “Nathan, quit it.”

 

“How did a neighbor know to come to the hospital?” Nathan says, suddenly shrewd. “Unless- oh shit. You’re, uh, colleagues in the same department, aren’t you?”   


 

Nathan was always too smart for his own good. Caleb’s face is deceptively flat as hesays, “No, we’re just neighbors-” but Ben interrupts.

 

  
“No, it’s okay, he knows. Emergency contact and all,” he weakly tries to joke, but Caleb’s face is still strangely flat. Somehow Ben knows it’s not due to the fact that Nathan knows that they’re spies.

 

“No worries. I work in DC, I know how it is,” Nathan says, easily, and Caleb smiles. 

 

“I’ll let you two catch up,” he says, standing, and Ben frowns a little before he can stop himself. _Damn drugs_.   


 

Nathan moves to take his chair, but then pauses for a brief moment. “Hey, Caleb?”   


 

The man pauses, and Nathan gives a smirk, and Ben desperately hopes whatever comes out of his mouth isn’t something terribly _Nathan_. “Just so you know, we’re just emergency contact friends. Totally platonic there. Just thought you should know.” 

 

Caleb looks caught off guard for a moment, then smiles for real. “Nice to meet you, Nathan,” he says, then looks right at Ben before leaving. 

 

“ _Nathan_ ,” Ben hisses, his cheeks bright red, and Nathan tucks the blanket more firmly around him. 

 

“Oh, come on. I couldn’t resist. Figured you can’t kill me so easily with all those bandages around you.”   


 

 

•••

 

 

Nathan keeps him company in the hospital for the next several days. Caleb doesn’t visit in that time, but Anna does on the second day. 

 

She and Nathan get on horribly well, teasing Ben in quick succession before he threatens to check himself out, and they stop. 

 

“Did you hear about Caleb and that agent, Selah?” Anna asks, as Nathan steals Ben’s jello. 

 

“What?” 

 

“Apparently it was touch and go for a bit for you back in Amsterdam, and they didn’t let Caleb in the room. Selah tries to hold him back, right, but Caleb just turns and attacks him. Started shouting that it was his fault, I heard.”

 

Ben winces, and Anna continues, “He was pretty messed up while you were out. He’s lucky he’s not been fired.”

 

They discharge Ben after a week, once they’re sure he’s not bleeding internally, and once Nathan helps him get back to his house, Ben makes him leave too. 

 

Nathan’s gone for maybe ten minutes before there’s a quick knock at the door, and then Caleb walks in. “Hey, the door was unlocked,” he says, eyes running over Ben, who’s slumped on the couch. 

 

Ben tries to straighten up, wincing as the movement pulls at his bandages. “Nathan just left.” 

 

Caleb comes around and sits on the couch besides him. “So I, uh, in keeping with our honesty streak, I should tell you, I might’ve been suspended for a bit.”

 

“Suspended- what?”

 

“Anna probably told you. I might’ve hit Selah. But to be fair, if he wasn’t so trigger-happy, you wouldn’t have been shot.” 

 

Ben looks at him for a another moment before answering. “I’m not happy you’re suspended,” and Caleb looks down, “But thanks.”

 

Surprise blooms over his face, and Caleb reaches over to put a hand on Ben’s shoulder. “Anytime. I’d do it again too, to be honest, and I think Sackett knows that too.” 

 

Ben laughs, then stops as his side hurts. “Ah. Fuck. I hate being shot,” he says glumly, and Caleb snickers at that. 

 

“Come on, I made soup over at my place. I’ll bring you some, it’s a Brewster secret recipe, you must be starving from a week of hospital food.” He begins to rise.

 

“I can walk over,” Ben says, rising slowly. “Your house is nicer at this point, anyways,” he jokes, and Caleb smiles, holding the door open for him.

 

They’re halfway across the grass before Abe, Ben’s other neighbor, shouts from his lawn, “Ben! Caleb said you were in a car accident.” He comes over, wiping sweat from his forehead. 

 

“Yeah, I’m all right now, though,” Ben reassures him. 

 

Abe pauses for a second. “Your colleague stopped by. She had, uh, pretty dark hair, and was about my height?” 

 

“Anna,” Ben says. “Anna stopped by?” 

 

“Yeah,” Abe says, and there’s definitely a blush high on his cheeks. “She told me to tell you that you have the next two weeks off. Hey, is she single?” 

 

Caleb snickers from beside him.

 

 

•••

 

 

Once Caleb has fed Ben at least three bowls of hearty soup (that’s actually quite excellent, because apparently he can cook as well), they’re slouched in front of the television, watching some old cowboy movie. Ben’s feet are propped up, and he can just barely feel the muscle of Caleb’s thigh next to them. He’s tempted to flex his feet just to test the touch boundaries between them. 

 

On the television, the two cowboys are having a standoff, and Caleb snorts. “These are always so ridiculous, I’m not sure why they were ever popular.” 

 

Ben smiles, and unthinkingly, he says, “My brother used to love these movies.”

 

He can feel Caleb’s eyes turn to him, and Ben looks down for a moment, the familiar knot of sadness beginning to expand under his breastbone. 

 

But he’s sitting on Caleb’s sofa, and it’s warm, and he can still smell the sweet carrots from the soup, so he continues, “He owned the house before me. I got it when he died.” 

 

The admission loosens something in his chest, as Caleb quietly asks, “How did he die?”   


 

“Meningitis. He was in his last year at college.” There are tears forming at the corners of Ben’s eyes, and he tries to wipe them without being too obvious. But Caleb’s eyes are still on his face, so it’s a pointless effort. “When I joined Sackett’s team, he told me that they had their eye on him. I hope he would’ve approved of me and all of this, you know?”   


 

Caleb’s hand, warm and big, lands on his leg, and Ben meets his gaze. “I think he would’ve. You’re a good man, Benjamin Tallmadge.”

 

He leaves his hand on Ben's leg, his thumb rubbing small circles as they continue to watch the cowboy movie. 

 

•••


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just had to make it happy :) cheers!

•••

 

Something’s shifted between them. While Caleb waits out his suspension, and Ben heals, they spend a lot of time together. It’s almost like that week they spent together, but something is different.

 

They spend the days between their two houses. Caleb is done with painting, so Ben helps him order curtains and kitchenware, and Caleb helps Ben change his bandages and remember to take antibiotics. 

 

One day, Ben comes over and finds out that Caleb has gotten a cat one day. It’s a small, black and white spotted thing that he names Whiskers without a single touch of irony. Ben should be annoyed, but he helps Caleb pick out a collar, and looks up nearby veterinarians. During dinner, Whiskers curls up on his lap, and Ben watches fondly as she kneads against his thighs. 

 

They eat most of their meals together, even though it wasn’t long ago that Ben had him pinned up against a wall, spitting in his face. He can’t help but think that they’ve come to understand each other more. Or at least, Ben thinks that Caleb might know him the best in this world. 

 

On the tenth day, Sackett calls them into the office. Ben’s healed enough so that he can get dressed without help, and Caleb drives them into the city. 

 

Surprisingly enough, Abigail is standing next to Sackett. “Agent Tallmadge, I’m glad you’re better,” she says, holding out a hand for him to shake. “

 

“Ma’am,” Ben says, shaking her hand. “What are you doing here?” 

 

“She’s been transferred here as a liaison with the Dutch. Selah’s still in Amsterdam, so don’t worry there, Mr. Brewster,” Sackett says sharply, and Ben can feel Caleb wince from beside him. 

 

“Gentlemen,” Abigail nods, and leaves them. 

 

Ben’s on desk duty for the next few weeks, while Caleb is being sent to Istanbul. It’s a basic mission, but Ben’s heart clenches at the thought he might be shot or worse without Ben there to back him up. 

 

Ben drives him to the airport. There’s a moment in front of the security line when Caleb looks at him for a moment, and the air is charged between them- but then he leans in and gives Ben a tight hug. 

 

“Try not to break any more lawnmowers,” he whispers, and Ben laughs and hugs him tighter. 

 

“Have a good flight, Caleb.”

 

 

•••

 

 

His first stop is Caleb’s house, where he picks up Whiskers. Caleb had said that he didn’t have to take care of her, that he would hire a pet sitter, but Ben had insisted. 

 

He returns to his house, putting Whiskers down by his feet, and is struck by how empty it feels. Nothing’s changed, but as he clicks the lock behind him (no Caleb to let in, after all), the realization sinks in. 

 

Ben calls Anna, who picks up in two rings. “Ben?”   


“I think I’m in love with Caleb,” he says.

 

There’s a pause. “You think?” Anna says. “You’re practically an old married couple.”   


“We-” and then Ben recalls the last several weeks. “Okay. But we’ve not known each other for long, and-”  


“And, what? You’re in love with him now. Have you told him?” 

 

“No. He’s away now.” Ben pauses. “What if he doesn’t feel the same?”   


“Ben, you’re just going to have to ask him.” There’s telltale rustling of sheets on her end,a whispered voice, and Ben’s ears turn red. 

 

“Sorry, did I interrupt you?” 

 

The quiet voice in the background says something else, and Anna gives a soft laugh before answering. “Abigail says that she’s seen the two of you, and you’d be best to talk to Caleb as soon as he’s back.”

 

Ben flounders. “You- Abigail? And you?” and Anna, taking pity on him, hangs up before he can wrap his head this apparently new development. 

 

Ben stares at the phone for a moment, and feels the need to lie down. 

 

He thought that maybe it was just attraction with Caleb, coupling with the strange strain of friendship that they’ve grown over the past several weeks. He knows Caleb isn’t straight, after all, from one of the man’s more memorable tales involving a jealous ex-lover while he was in the Navy, but there’s a good chance that he has not even the most remotely non-platonic feelings for him.

 

Caleb is gorgeous and quick on his feet and one of the most loyal, kind people that Ben has ever met. Now that he’s somewhere on a plane flying to who knows what, however, Ben can’t help but to feel that there’s a part of him missing. 

 

He wants to wake up with Caleb in his bed every morning, and for him to be the last thing he sees before he sleeps.

 

"Shit,” Ben says, to no on in particular.

 

 

•••

 

 

Caleb is gone for two long months.

 

In that time, he’s only able to call Ben a handful of times from a staticky satellite phone, telling him that he still has all four limbs (“And all nine fingers,” he says gleefully as Ben thinks to himself, _This is the man I’ve fallen for_ ).

 

The mission apparently is a mess, as Sackett informs him, and they pull Caleb out of the field when it becomes clear that spies were not helping.

 

When Ben is not secretly worrying about Caleb, he’s got his hands full with other work. Apparently, Benedict Arnold has been selling secrets to the Russians, and fled for asylum about a week into Caleb’s absence. 

 

Sackett’s division is stuck with maintaining the fall out, and Ben is swamped in interrogations and the sheer masses of paperwork in an attempt to negate any damage that Arnold might have done. 

 

He works long hours, only going home to feed Whiskers and sleep for a few hours before coming back into work. 

 

Sackett tells him, one cloudy Friday afternoon, that Caleb’s flight back is due to land in about an hour. “I would’ve sent Anna, but I figured you’d want to see him the most,” he says, fixing Ben with an uncomfortably perceptive look from over the rims of his glasses.

 

Ben gets out of the office as quick as he can, Anna patting him on the shoulder before he leaves. 

 

It’s technically not regulation to pick up fellow spies from the airport, but Ben doesn’t think too hard about it as he speeds away in his car. 

 

He’s at the airport in record time, craning his head above the crowd of people between him and the baggage pickup, and then he sees a familiar face. 

 

“Tall boy!” Caleb greets him, his eyes crinkling up, and Ben has to take him in for a moment.

 

He’s lost some weight, and there’s a worrying bandage peeking out from beneath his shirt, and Caleb has managed to grow a full, thick beard while abroad. He’s waiting for him, Ben realizes, to step forward.

 

Ben strides over the rest of the distance between them and hugs him tightly. “I missed you so much,” he says, muffled into Caleb’s shoulder, and he can feel the man beneath him laugh.

 

“What, no one else wanted your help with home improvement projects?” Caleb jokes as they separate. “Damn, it’s good to see you.” 

 

Ben gives a laugh “Fuck you. I could’ve helped Abe, you know.” 

 

“Abe? Yeah, how’s he doing with Anna?” Caleb says, picking up his bag and following Ben out of the terminal. 

 

“Well, considering apparently Anna and Abigail are together now, not too good.” 

 

“What- Dutch Abigail? Wow. I’ve been gone for too long, haven’t I?” 

 

“You really have,” Ben says.

 

 

•••

 

 

The car ride is the best Ben has felt in a while. Caleb tells him (partially redacted) stories about his time in Istanbul, like when he rode a camel while carrying a machine gun, or how he discovered that menemen was clearly the superior breakfast.

 

Ben trades him stories from the office, like when Anna revealed that she kept actual knives in her high heels, or how Abe briefly tried to grow cabbages in his backyard. 

 

(He doesn’t notice, but as he speaks, Caleb just stares at Ben while the sunlight catches the blond in his hair). 

 

When they get back, Caleb invites him to his house, but Ben first shakes his head. “You should go sleep- hold on, I’ve still got Whiskers. I’ll be over in a minutes to drop her off.” 

 

While Caleb heads into his house, Ben goes and gets the cat. She purrs in his arms as he carries her over the lawn, pushing Caleb’s door open with his shoulder.

 

Caleb is still standing in the living room, the bags beside him. He’s still, so much that Ben automatically reaches for the knife he keeps at his side. 

 

“Caleb?” 

 

The man turns around, and there’s something in his eyes. “I don’t want you to go.”  


“What? I mean, I can stay for a bit, but I really think you should sleep-”

 

“I don’t want to be friendly neighbors,” Caleb says, staring intently at Ben. 

 

Ben swallows. “Listen, if it’s too much, between work and here, that’s fine, I get it, I’ll just-”  


“No. I don’t think you do,” Caleb tells him, then steps forward again and kisses him.

 

His lips are warm and chapped, and his beard itches against Ben’s chin. He’s frozen for a second, enough so that Caleb begins to draw back, but then Ben makes a noise deep in this throat and pulls him in by the collar of his shirt. 

 

Caleb’s mouth opens up against his as Ben kisses him back, and the hot slide of their tongues together makes him proceed to lose all train of thought. 

 

Caleb’s hands work their way into Ben’s hair (longer now, he’s been long due for a haircut), and Ben clutches at him. They’re clumsy, clutching at each other, but it’s the best kiss Ben has ever had.

 

They break apart when they begin to run out of air. 

 

“I,” Caleb begins to say, and Ben puts his thumb on his bottom lip. 

 

“I love you,” he says, and it’s thrilling and terrifying, and Caleb’s eyes widen. “I’ve been in love with you. I missed you so much, but it’s more than that, I want to be with you, I want to spend all my time with you.”

 

It’s not exactly the most romantic confession, but Caleb draws him in for another kiss, desperate against his mouth. The next time they break apart, Caleb’s eyes are so close to his that it’s a bit hard to focus (or perhaps that’s because his hands are gentle on the back of his neck), and he says, “I love you too.” 

 

“You don’t have to say it-” 

 

“No, I do, I want to. Tall boy, I wanted to bring you back something if Sackett would’ve let me, would’ve gotten you anything. Realized it in the hospital, watching you almost die. I was afraid of losing you.” 

 

Ben doesn’t know what to say to that, other than rest his forehead against Caleb’s. “You have me,” Ben says, and kisses him softly. 

 

Caleb’s hands trace his shoulders, his spine, dipping underneath the bottom of his tee-shirt. His fingers rub over the curve of Ben’s waist, and he shivers. “Wait, I-” 

 

Caleb moves back, but Ben snags his hand. “I didn’t mean like that. Just, you just got back. You should sleep,” and Caleb smirks, “And shower.” 

  
“I think you like me smelly,” Caleb tells him with a smug expression, and Ben laughs, leaning over to kiss him once again. 

 

“How about I stay tonight?”  


“I’d love nothing more.” 

 

 

•••

 

 

After stealing several more kisses, Caleb does go into the bathroom to shower, and Ben makes his way into the master bedroom. He stands, unsure for a moment, in the doorway, until Whiskers curls around his legs, giving a small meow.

 

He opts for taking off his jeans, toeing off his shoes and socks, sitting on the bed in his t-shirt and boxers. He feels out of place in the unfamiliar room, until he recognizes the headboard as the one that Ben helped Caleb pick out, the dresser one that they picked up at an antique store, and realizes that there’s already elements of himself in the room. 

 

Ben leans back on a pillow, just as Caleb comes out from the shower in just a towel. His chest is broad, even though there’s a worrying set of bruises, the bandages off to reveal a still-healing cut near the top. There’s a line of dark hair leading down his torso, and Ben’s mouth waters. 

 

“Christ, I’ve missed that shower,” Caleb says, leaning on the doorway. “You’re a sight to see.” His eyes dip down the lines of Ben’s body, over his pale thighs and calves. 

 

Ben smiles, and Caleb takes a step forward. “You waiting for an invitation, Brewster?”  


Caleb makes a helpless sound at that, coming over to straddle Ben’s lap. He’s still damp from the shower, a hot and wet weight on Ben, and when he kisses him, Ben moans, arching into his touch.

 

They’re panting when they separate, as Caleb starts to work the t-shirt up over his head. Ben spreads his hands over the planes of Caleb’s chest, the slight roundness of his stomach, the muscles that flex and tense under his touch. 

 

Once Ben’s shirt is off, Caleb kisses the skin right under his nipple, and Ben moans again. “I, uh, haven’t exactly done this before,” he blurts out. 

 

Caleb looks up with a start. “What- sex? Really?” His voice is curious, but he doesn’t get up off Ben. 

 

Ben flushes. “I just never had the chance, I guess. Just thought you should know.” 

 

“Do you want to? We don’t have to have sex.” Caleb makes to get off him, but Ben’s hands grip his hips suddenly. 

 

“No, I want to. I really, _really_ want to,” Ben emphasizes with a squeeze. 

 

Caleb groans, his hips stuttering, and Ben, with a hot flush, realizes that’s he’s already hard. “Good. That’s good,” he says, and Ben’s mouth goes dry. “Tell me what you want.” He means it probably in a way to not pressure Ben into anything, but the words go straight to his arousal. 

 

He unwraps the towel from Caleb’s waist, tracing the edge of his hip down to his cock. “Can I-”   


“Yes, _God yes_ ,” Caleb says, leaning down to kiss Ben again. 

 

Ben grasps him, starts moving his hand. It’s an awkward angle at first, but then Caleb moves his hips further down Ben’s thighs, and the shift in the angle makes him moan. 

 

“Ben, you’re perfect, oh God-” Caleb bites his lip, and Ben uses his other hand to bring him down for a kiss. His hand starts to cramp eventually, but he keeps the rhythm up, twisting his hand occasionally on the upstroke. 

 

When Caleb comes, he bites down on Ben’s lower lip. He’s slumped over Ben for a moment, kissing his neck. “Can I do you?” he says, and Ben nods hurriedly, closing his eyes at the feeling of Caleb’s lips on his neck. 

 

“Come on, Ben, use your words,” Caleb says, punctuating his words with a tongue tracing over the dips above his collarbone. 

 

“ _Caleb_ ,” Ben groans, and Caleb moves down his body, bringing his boxers down in a smooth motion. The air is cold on his suddenly exposed skin, and he twists slightly, reaching down to put a hand softly in Caleb’s hair. 

 

Caleb kisses his hipbone reverently, his hands smoothing the outsides of his thighs. He takes Ben in his mouth, and Ben’s head hits the headboard. “Fuck, Caleb-”   


Caleb hums around him, jaw working up and down, and Ben watches him, struck at the sight. His beard tickles the inside of his thighs, but he would gladly take a bullet in this moment if it meant that Caleb’s mouth would stay on his cock. 

  
It’s not long before he can feel all the muscles in his body tighten, tugs at Caleb’s hair in warning, and Caleb somehow works more of him into his mouth, moaning at the sensation, his eyes never leaving Ben’s. 

 

Ben comes, his eyes fixed on Caleb, his jaw slack. Caleb kisses the inside of his thigh, and works his way up his body, until he kisses Ben softly on the corner mouth. 

 

“Thank you,” Ben mumbles, now the one slumped on the bed, and Caleb laughs a bit at that, though it’s gentle. 

 

“I think I should be the one thanking you, Tallmadge. Christ.” 

 

“Mmm,” Ben says, and he’s comfortable with Caleb’s warm weight on top of him, only vaguely aware of Caleb pulling a sheet on top of them before he falls asleep.

 

 

 

•••

 

 

Ben wakes up the next morning slightly confused of his whereabouts, until he remembers the previous night. He rolls over as best as he can, as Caleb’s arm is slung over his waist, and he’s snoring into the pillows. 

 

Ben watches him sleep, until Caleb’s eyes flutter open, aware that someone is watching him. 

 

“Good morning,” he says, and watches with delight as Caleb’s eyes crinkle in response. 

 

“Morning.” he says. “God, I thought I couldn’t love you any more, but you waking up in my bed, that’s something.” 

 

Ben swats him lightly. “You’re a romantic, Caleb Brewster,” and Caleb brings him in for a kiss, then winces. 

 

“Sorry for the morning breath,” he says apologetically. 

 

Ben drags him in for a deeper kiss anyways, his hands moving with intent underneath the sheets until he’s clutching at Caleb, legs tangled together. 

 

Caleb kisses the edge of his jaw, as Ben gives a moan, making the decision to grab Caleb’s ass with two hands. 

 

“I’ve made a monster,” Caleb groans, but willingly rolls them over so Ben’s pressing him into the mattress. 

 

They eventually get up, Ben borrowing a pair of sweatpants that are a bit too short on him, and cooks them breakfast. As Caleb kisses between his shoulder blades and goes to get dishes to bring them out to the porch, Ben goes back into the bedroom to plug in his phone. 

 

Before he leaves the phone, he sends a quick text message to Nathan. 

 

<<Spent night with Caleb. Didn’t even have to break out tight blue tshirt>>

 

A text comes in quickly.

 

<<congrats, man. is this how u feel when i text u? gross tho.>>

 

Ben laughs, and goes to join Caleb. 

 

He’s waiting on the back porch with hot plates of scrambled eggs, which he passes off to Ben as soon as he sits down. 

 

“Just so you know, I’m in it, with us,” Caleb says, his tone light but his dark eyes searching. “I know what you said, last night, but I just wanted to be clear.” 

 

“Good,” Ben says. “Me too.” He props his feet up on the man’s lap, and Caleb drapes an arm over them.

 

It’s a lot like previous mornings they’ve spent together, but so incredibly different. They laugh together and fall more in love, and Ben doesn’t know what’s going to happen in future, but he’s never been happier, and that’s good enough for him.

 

•••


End file.
